Blossoming
by Circe la Fay
Summary: (One-shot) The second sequel to Fated. Probably a good idea to read that first.


**Disclaimer**: Still not mine. Funnily enough.

**A/N**: Thank you for all the reviews for New Beginnings. It was meant to be a one-shot, but most people have said that I should continue it. Therefore there is going to be a proper sequel to Fated with New Beginnings as a bridge one-shot. Unfortunately I have AS exams for the next few weeks (hands up if you feel my pain!) but after that you won't be able to get rid of me!

Anyway, in the meantime, this is another one-shot, set in the time between the last chapter of Fated and the epilogue (i.e. the eight years in which quite a lot of stuff happened that I glossed over.) Hopefully this will sort of answer the question you all asked (or screamed!) at the end of Fated – why didn't Harry and Sally get together?

**Blossoming**

Harry hammered on the bathroom door.

"Sally, hurry up, you've been in there for over twenty minutes. Sally!"

Sally's head popped out of the room opposite.

"What?" she yawned.

Harry looked at her, confused. "So you're not in the bathroom?"

"With observational skills like that it's a wonder you find the Snitch at all, much less catch it."

Rolling his eyes, Harry hammered on the door again. "Hermione!"

"What?" Hermione's voice floated up from downstairs.

"Nothing."

_So if it's not one of the girls…_thought Harry

The bathroom door opened and Ron emerged in a cloud of steam. "Morning all," he said, going into his bedroom. Harry stared at him incredulously for a moment, and turned back to the bathroom just as the door slammed shut once again.

"What the..?" He banged on the door again.

"You snooze you lose," shouted Sally over the sound of running water.

Four students living in one house certainly had its downsides; but with Ron still in Auror training, Sally studying for the bar exam and Hermione doing an apprenticeship with Amelia Bones (Minister for Magic), it was the best financial solution. Harry was already earning several times more than the other three put together, and with the money his parents had left him he was more than capable of buying a house of his own, but at twenty-one he still didn't feel ready to live alone as yet, and the other three agreed heartily.

Harry entered the dining room just as the post owl arrived. Hermione placed each person's post in neat piles as Sally rushed past with a mug of tea in one hand, a shoe in the other and a piece of toast clenched between her teeth. Harry flicked through his mail. After reading an amusing update from Remus, he picked up the other letter. It was in a stiff envelope, and the address was written on it in ornate gold lettering. Inside was an invitation.

_The Worshipful Company of Magical Brethren_

_cordially invite Harry Potter and guest _

_to the annual Beltane Ball_

_on_

_the 30th of April_

_from 8.00pm to 1.00am_

Looking up, Harry could see Sally ripping open an identical envelope.

"So you're invited to this thing too?" said Harry, as Sally quickly scanned the invitation.

"Seems so," replied Sally. "Sounds like one of those fist-eatingly boring events when you stand around with a glass of champagne while some elderly minor royal tells you a long story about the time he went to the garden centre."

"Probably," said Harry, laughing. "Are you going to go?"

Sally thought for a moment. "Might as well. Besides, it gives me an excuse to buy some dress robes. I've been dying to for ages. In fact, why don't we go together? Saves us trying to find an 'and guest'."

"Hmmm," said Harry, not eager to pin himself down to anything.

Sally giggled. "Rita Skeeter will have a field day if we turn up together! She'll have us married and expecting twins before the Evening Prophet hits the press. Imagine it, The Boy-Who-Lived and The Girl-Who-Lived. Our children would be crime fighting machines, sorting out any evil megalomaniacs who happened to come along! Anyway, what do you say? Shall we go?"

Harry nodded. "Okay then."

"Great!"

As Sally left the room, Hermione joined Harry at the table.

"Sound a bit more enthusiastic at least," she said quietly.

"What?" asked Harry, confused.

"I don't get how she hasn't noticed. Since we've all been living together, you've been avoiding spending any time alone with her, as if that's going to solve your problems."

"Well what do you suggest?" asked Harry, annoyed.

"Tell her."

Harry shook his head firmly. "Absolutely not. I am not opening that can of worms. Things are better the way they are."

"You're naïve if you think ignoring the way you feel about her is going to make it go away."

Harry sighed. Hermione could be very tenacious when she wanted to be.

"We're going to this thing next Saturday. I'll see what happens then, okay?"

"Fine."

Harry pushed away his plate of toast. Suddenly he didn't feel quite so hungry.

* * *

The rattle of the Floo announced that someone was on their way home, and sure enough Harry fell out of the fireplace a few moments later. Sally put down the pile of papers she had been working on and greeted him. 

"Hi," rasped Harry in reply.

Sally looked at him, concerned. "Are you okay?"

Harry nodded.

Sceptical, Sally got up and put her hand on Harry's forehead. "You have a temperature."

"No I don't. I'm fine," said Harry, and promptly started coughing.

Shaking her head, Sally guided a weakly protesting Harry up to his bedroom. "Right," she said, "you stay here and I'll get you some soup."

"I had the last of the soup yesterday," said Harry, conceding defeat.

"I'll get you some tea then."

"No teabags."

"Well then I'll get you…I'll decide what I'm going to get you on the way downstairs. You just lie down for a bit."

As Sally went into the kitchen to get some Butterbeer (not entirely appropriate, but she thought Harry would probably appreciate it) she bumped into Ron.

"Harry's ill, so be nice to him," she informed him, sticking her head in the fridge.

"He's ill? What's wrong?"

"Flu I think," said Sally, emerging with a bottle of Butterbeer.

"Is he going to be able to go to that ball tomorrow?"

Sally put down the bottle. "I hadn't thought of that. No, probably not. Damn, I'm going to have to find someone else to go with me." She looked pensive for a moment. "Ron…?"

"No."

"Oh come on, please! I can't go on my own, it would be awful and embarrassing and…please?"

"No."

"You might enjoy it! There will be dancing…"

"I don't dance."

"There will be music…"

"I don't care."

"There will be food…"

"I don't…really?"

Sally nodded emphatically. "More food than you could possibly imagine, the most wonderful, tasty…"

"Still no."

"Please? You might not even have to come – Harry might be better tomorrow. Just think about it."

"I don't have any dress robes."

"You work in central London! Buy some! Or borrow Harry's. Please?"

"I'll think about it."

"Thank you."

* * *

Far from feeling better, Harry spent most of the next day on the sofa covered in a blanket. Sally had assigned herself the job of looking after him, and was beginning to very much remind Harry of Mrs Weasley. 

Around lunchtime, Sally was making Harry a sandwich when Ron's head appeared in the fireplace. Putting down the sandwich knife, she knelt down beside him.

"What's up?" she asked.

"I'm buying dress robes. I need to know what colour yours are."

Sally raised an eyebrow, surprised that he had thought about it in that much detail. Then it dawned on her. "You're with Hermione aren't you?"

Ron blushed involuntarily. "So what colour are they?" he asked, evading the question.

Sally laughed. "Blue."

"Thanks."

Ron's head disappeared, and then reappeared a moment later.

"What shade of blue?"

Sally laughed again.

"Midnight blue. Tell her I said hi."

Ron stuck his tongue out, and promptly got a mouthful of ash.

* * *

Tugging at his dress robes, Ron cursed himself for being so easily manipulated. Hermione had finally decided on a set of dark green dress robes, similar to the ones that Harry had worn to the Yule Ball in fourth year. In Ron's opinion, dress robes in general made him look like a girl, and green ones made him look like a carrot, but he had bought them anyway rather than face Hermione's wrath. 

As he turned to look in the mirror once again, Sally came downstairs.

"What do you think?" she asked, twirling on the spot. The midnight blue dress robes had a magical shimmer that was brought out by the diamond choker around her neck, and her hair, which she normally wore down, had been swept up.

Ron looked her up and down appraisingly, and then nodded. "You look very nice."

"So do you," said Sally, grinning. "Green really suits you. Looks like Hermione has got it right again."

"Thanks," said Ron. _Clearly girls do know more about these things_, he thought.

"Shall we go then?" asked Sally.

"Sure," replied Ron, heading for the kitchen.

"Where are you going?"

"The Floo."

"I can't Floo, remember? Besides, you can hardly expect me to climb into a fireplace wearing this, can you?"

Ron slapped his forehead. "Sorry, I forgot. So how are going to get there?"

"Taxi."

"What?"

Sally sighed. "It's a car, but someone else drives it."

"Oh," said Ron. "So, why don't we just use your car?"

"You're joking? How am I meant to find parking in the West End at this time of night?"

"What?"

"Never mind."

* * *

As they pulled up in front of the building, Ron could just about make out the strains of the Weird Sisters' new song. He turned to Sally. 

"You didn't say that the Weird Sisters would be playing," he said excitedly.

"I didn't know," replied Sally, fumbling for change for the taxi driver.

Ron waited impatiently as Sally paid, and then grabbed her by the wrist and half dragged her towards the large hall.

It seemed that the Beltane Ball was in fact the place to see and be seen, as Sally was soon swamped by photographers and journalists. With a fixed smile, she began to answer questions, as Ron tried to make himself as inconspicuous as possible.

After what seemed like hours Sally finally excused herself from the throng and made her way over to where Ron had found them a table. As she sat down, Ron paled.

"Oh great," he said, pointing over her shoulder.

Sally looked over to where he was pointing. Making a beeline over to their table, looking like Christmas had come early, was Draco Malfoy.

The two made as if to leave, but Draco was too quick for them.

"Well, well, well," he said, eying Ron and Sally beadily. "This place really has gone to the dogs. I didn't know you could afford dress robes, Weasel, or did the entire family go hungry for a month? You should really have used the money to buy yourself a better date – rather than borrowing Potter's little pet."

"And where's your lovely escort?" asked Sally, coolly. Involuntarily, Draco looked over to the vol au vents where his mother was standing.

Sally laughed. "Here with mummy are we?"

Giving her a look of pure evil, Draco struggled for something to say.

"It looks like things have really gone downhill since Pansy Parkinson chucked you," said Ron.

Draco went red. It was well known that he had never quite got over his little public humiliation.

"Well," said Sally, twisting the knife, "You better hurry back to mumsie, it must be way past your bedtime."

Gritting his teeth, Draco turned around to storm off and promptly collided with a pillar. He slunk off sheepishly with the sound of laughter ringing in his ears.

Sally turned to Ron. "We make quite the double act, don't we?"

Ron grinned. "Absolutely." He offered her his arm. "Do you want to go get some drinks?"

* * *

As they approached the bar, Sally looked up at the stage. Frowning, she realised that she recognised the lead singer. She tapped Ron on the shoulder. 

"I think I know that guy," she said, pointing him out.

"Myron Wagtail?"

"Yeah," said Sally, trying to work out how she knew him. "Myron Wag…oh I know! He was there when I was getting my Order of Merlin First Class!"

Ron's jaw dropped. "You know Myron Wagtail?"

"Yeah! He's really sweet! Let's go say hi."

They approached the stage as the song ended, Ron looking stunned. Sally beckoned to the lead singer of the Weird Sisters, who crouched down to her level. He looked at her, puzzled, and then recognition flooded his face.

"Hello darlin'," he said, planting a kiss on each of her cheeks, "small world, isn't it?"

Sally grinned. "Completely. It's great to see you, how are you?"

As Sally and Myron began to chat, Ron jabbed Sally with his elbow.

"Oh," said Sally, rolling her eyes, "this is my friend Ron."

Myron shook Ron's hand. "Nice to meet you mate."

Ron let out a sound that sounded something like 'miffle wiffle'.

Myron fished through his pockets and handed Sally a card. "Listen," he said, "we've got a gig to do, obviously, but you give me an owl and we'll hook up sometime, have a coffee." He stood up and waved. "Nice meeting you Ron."

As the Weird Sisters began to play their next song, Ron looked at Sally, wide-eyed.

"Did I just shake hands with Myron Wagtail?"

Sally laughed. "Come on, let's get some drinks."

* * *

Although he was loath to admit it, Ron was having a good time. As well as the fact that his favourite band were playing, spending time alone with Sally wasn't something he got to do often and he was beginning to realise just how much they had in common. 

As Ron and Sally launched into a debate about whether football was better than Quidditch, the Weird Sisters began to play a slow song. Surprising both himself and Sally, Ron stood up and extended his hand.

"Do you want to dance?"

Sally raised an eyebrow. "I thought you didn't dance."

"First time for everything."

Laughing, Sally rose from the chair and allowed herself to be led onto the dance floor.

"Glad you came then?" asked Sally as they danced.

"Of course," said Ron, now so close that she could feel his breath on her ear. "It's been fantastic."

Sally smiled. She wasn't sure why, but it was important to her that Ron was having a good time.

As the song ended they moved apart, unsure what to do next. They stood looking at each other for a while, not moving. Thankfully, the next song was more up tempo, giving Sally the opportunity to cajole Ron into spinning her around the dance floor.

* * *

By about 1.30 am, the ball was beginning to wind down, and Ron and Sally decided to leave. As they stepped into the cold night air, Sally turned to Ron. 

"I don't feel like going home yet."

Ron considered this. "Me neither."

"Let's go to Hyde Park."

"What's Hyde Park?"

"You really don't know Muggle London at all, do you?"

Hyde Park, empty at this hour, looked beautiful by moonlight. Ron and Sally walked across the grass, Sally holding her shoes in one hand as what had been uncomfortable when she put them on had now become excruciating.

Suddenly she stopped.

"Look," she said, pointing at the sky.

Ron looked upwards. The moon was full, and the stars were unusually clear. It looked spectacular.

Sally shivered.

"Are you cold?" asked Ron.

Sally shrugged. "A bit."

"Come here." He wrapped his arms around her so that his cloak was around both of them. Sally lay against him, resting her head against his shoulder. She felt as if she could stay like that forever.

Ron looked back up at the sky, memories of seven years of Astronomy lessons flooding back.

"Do you know what all the constellations are?" he asked.

Sally shook her head.

"Well," he said, pointing them out, "that one over there is Ursa Minor, and that big one is Pegasus, and right over there, that's the Pleiades."

Sally gazed upwards, enraptured. "It's beautiful," she said.

Ron looked at her face, bathed in the moonlight. "Yes, it is," he said.

And then he kissed her.


End file.
